Stroked My Cheek With His Knuckles

"I'm ready," I said, turning to face him.

He just stood there, looking at me, as if time had stopped. His expression was unreadable. I did not understand if he liked how I looked or was horrified.

"I've never worn something this fancy before... I'm not sure if I look okay," I mumbled.

"You look beautiful," he said, approaching me and my legs froze in the place. He stroked my cheek with his knuckles and I shivered slightly, feeling a sudden chill. "Just perfect. Red suits you."

"Thank you," I muttered shyly.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"I do. It's beautiful, but it's_ expensive. You shouldn't have given me something this expensive."

"Don't ever say that," he said gently, but I could sense the warning in his voice. "You're my bride. I'll give my bride whatever I want, I'll cherish her, I'll make her the happiest person in the world. 

Moreover, you're the future queen. You deserve to have the most expensive thing in the world."